


On A Park Bench

by Cornbread5287



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, mentions of rick's thighs being hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:56:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornbread5287/pseuds/Cornbread5287
Summary: Daryl just wanted to sit on the swings.





	On A Park Bench

**Author's Note:**

> Yo hey hi long time no post. Go easy on me I haven't written in like, a year. Beta'd by the wonderful HogwartsToAlexandria!!!  
> I kicked my writer's block in the balls, finally.

Daryl shifted his feet, pushing himself back and swinging forward. The chains of the swingset creaked a little, probably protesting against his definitely-not-kid-sized-weight. He brought a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it, taking a long draw before flicking the ashes off.

 

“You shouldn’t smoke here. Kids play here, like me. It’s rude,” a small voice said. 

Daryl looked up, raising his eyebrows. A small girl with brown hair and an adorable face was standing in front of him, hands on her hips, her head cocked sideways.   _ Attitude, _ Daryl noted.

 

“And,” the little girl continued, “you’re on the only swing that isn’t broken. I want it.”

 

Daryl huffed. “Go slide or somethin’, runt,” he mumbled.

 

“HEY!”

 

“How old are you anyway?” He was half annoyed, half amused. 

 

“I’m six but my brother is bigger and if you don’t let me have that swing he’s gunna beat you up! And then my dad will arrest you!” she threatened.

 

“Arrest me?” Daryl’s eyes got a little wide. He definitely had weed in his pocket.

 

“Yeah he’s a police cop and he’ll get you!” The little girl seemed to know she had won. Daryl grunted and kicked himself off the swing.

 

“Judith, what are you doing?” A kid, probably a teenager, was walking over to them. He was eyeing Daryl suspiciously. 

 

“Are you the brother that’s gonna kick my ass if I don’t give her the swing?” Daryl smirked, looking the kid up and down as he started sputtering. Tall, skinny, probably never been in a fight. He was tough, though. Daryl could see it.

 

“I-- Judith, what did you-- sir, I’m sorry, I--”

 

“Calm down, I’m kiddin’. M’ leavin’ anyway.” Daryl turned, flicking his cigarette away, and ran right into someone. Their heads bounced off each other.

 

Daryl’s knee-jerk reaction was to bring up his fist, but his brain caught up with his arm in time to stop the actual punch. He blinked, scowling, angry at himself for not hearing the stranger walk up on him.

 

“Ow, shit, sorry, damn, shit, you have a hard head,” the guy mumbled, rubbing his forehead. Then he looked up, and Daryl might as well have fallen to the man’s feet.

 

He was  _ pretty. _ Big blue eyes, big blowjob lips, curly dark hair and a trimmed salt and pepper beard. Daryl’s knees didn’t feel right.

 

“You okay?” The man asked. Daryl tried to remember how to speak.

 

“Your kids?” he managed to ask. The other man nodded, eyeing Daryl’s still-raised fist as he stuck out his hand.

 

“I’m Rick Grimes,” he said. The way he drew out his last name made Daryl’s gut squirm.

 

“Well,  _ Rick Griiiiimes, _ ” he mocked. “Do you always let your offspring terrorize strangers?”

 

Rick smiled, which was actually really unfair, Daryl thought.

 

“Sometimes. Helps me meet new people. Picks up the ladies sometimes, too. Or the gentlemen.”

 

Daryl’s eyebrows shot up. Rick’s face turned a little pink, but he continued to smile. Daryl finally shook his hand. “Works, does it?” He asked.

 

“Got you to hold my hand, didn’t it?” Rick grinned. 

 

Daryl smirked, just barely keeping a full smile off his face. The teenager rolled his eyes, ushering the little girl over to the swing. Rick’s face got a little redder. He jerked his head, gesturing towards a bench. Daryl bit his lip and nodded, following him over to it.

 

Daryl lost track of time talking to Rick. They talked about everything. From favorite colors (Rick’s was blue) to failed relationships (Rick’s past marriage was a doosie) and everything in-between. Rick smelled the weed in Daryl’s pocket but didn’t really care, he was off duty anyway. He hoped he’d become a detective one day. His kids were the most important thing to him, his favorite part of being a cop was getting out of jury duty, and he hated tomato soup. 

 

Daryl enjoyed every minute of it. 

 

The teenager, whose name Daryl had learned was Carl, gave Judith a piggy-back ride over to the bench when the sun started to set.

 

“She’s all played out, Dad,” he said.

 

Rick looked up, “Get her in her booster seat, please. I’ll be right there.”

 

“Sure,” Carl gave Daryl a slight nod in goodbye, and took off towards a soccer mom van in the parking lot. Daryl snorted.

 

“Hey, don’t make fun of Patricia,” Rick laughed.

 

“Patricia? You named your mini van?” Daryl snickered, unable to stop himself. Rick’s eyes were twinkling.

 

“Do you have a phone?” Rick asked. Daryl nodded. “Mind if I borrow it?”

 

Daryl handed it over, if only a little reluctantly. Rick smiled, typing something in and handing it back.

 

“Call me sometime,” he said, getting up. “I only have the kids on weekends.”

 

Daryl smirked and waved goodbye. He watched Rick walk all the way to his ridiculous van, very obviously checking him out. The man had some  _ thighs. _

 

Daryl looked down at the new contact as Rick drove away. He barked out a laugh.

 

“Hot Handcuff Fetish,” he read out loud. He shook his head. “He better not be bluffin’,” he mumbled, as he set a reminder on his phone to call the number on Monday.


End file.
